The Luna Academy

Into The Woods

s**t! I was so close to escaping.

A harsh spotlight pins me in place, the rest of the auditorium swallowed in darkness. I squint, waiting for my eyes to adjust, barely making out the shadows of the exits. The voices fade from whispers to complete silence. The air goes quiet, and my hands grow numb.

“Do something already!” someone jeers, sparking cruel laughter and other rude comments.

More mocking voices goading me quickly drown out the sound of someone attempting to shush and control the room. My legs won’t move, no matter how much I compel them to, it’s almost as if they’re glued to the floor. With sheer will, I break free, bolting toward the door. After bursting through it, not even sure how it opened, I sprint to the main entryway and out into the garden.

Tears blur my vision as laughter chases me while I stumble toward the forest. My stomach lurches, causing me to empty it against a tree before my legs give way. I collapse onto the forest floor, burying my face in my hands, sobbing until the sound shreds my throat. When my tears dry out, I wipe my nose and finally look around.

I hadn’t been thinking about where I was going, only that I needed to run. However, after looking around, I’m not entirely sure where I am. f**k! f**k! f**k! Being put on center stage was nowhere near my plan, so everything I initially thought of is out the window, which means I now have no plan at all as I lie on the ground in the middle of nowhere.

The only thing I have going for me, surrounded by all these trees, is Dad’s gift of teaching me survival skills. He’d always been insistent on teaching me how to track and hunt prey as well as how to navigate the woods and first aid, among many other things. I let the idea of it comfort me, although it only brings some slight relief.

I stand, taking in the shadows of the dense trees. Moonlight filters faintly through the canopy, giving me enough light for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Crickets and owls call, pulling my attention every which way. I close my eyes, pushing the sounds aside, listening instead for something useful. Then, I hear it: water.

I follow the sound, and as if the moon understands my plan, the light moves along with me, guiding me through the thick brush of shrubs and bushes before reaching an opening which reveals a beautiful, narrow stream glimmering under the silver light. The water looks so pure, I can’t resist kneeling to cup icy handfuls to drink. The cool liquid soothes the raw edge of my stomach and helps settle my still trembling palms.

I splash my face a few times, washing away the sweat. When my legs finally unbuckle, I push to my feet and gather my bearings. I decide to go upstream. This way, I’ll have higher ground and can get a better look around. Looking up at the sky, I figure there are about three hours before the moon dips low enough that I won’t be able to see at all.

After twenty minutes of trekking, a crunch of leaves behind me freezes me in place.

I’ve been caught!

My heart hammers. I brace to run but hesitate when the wind shifts. My eyes now accustomed to the dark, scan the trees. Seeing nothing move, I walk toward where the sound is coming from, when, far off, a slight glow catches my attention. At first, I think it’s a firefly, but unlike the others thus far, it doesn’t blink. Taking a few steps closer to it the light swells.

As I cautiously move closer, the moon hides behind some clouds, making it difficult to see anything beyond a few inches in front of me. Suddenly, the light I’m following flickers off, stopping me in my tracks. Pushing forward, hoping to see what it is, but as I take my first step, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

The wind blows, and the forest grows silent. The sound of all the animals nearby goes mute.

“I know you’re there,” I whisper, though it feels like a shout as I curl my hands into fists.

Something darts around me, pinning me in place as it circles me like a predator going after prey. The sound speeds up, and my heart quickens. At any second, it feels like something will strike, and I’ll be taken out forever.

“Stop!” I cry.

And it does.

Instead of continuing toward the light’s direction, I stumble back toward the stream, where I don’t feel surrounded. When I’m close enough to hear the water, the moonlight’s rays begin to appear once more, bringing me some relief. Thorns snag my sleeve and bite into my palm as I force my way through the bush right as the clearing appears.

“f**k,” I hiss, clutching my bleeding hand.

Blood drips steadily, trailing down my arm. Closing my fist, I keep it raised until I can put it in the water. Before stepping into the clearing, a low, feral growl rumbles through the dark, vibrating in my chest and freezing me in place. It’s eerily like the wolf’s howl from the ceremony, only closer, much closer.

The blood in my hand fills and begins dripping down my elbow until it pools on the ground, pulling my focus from fear to the steady crimson trail I’m leaving behind. The growl follows me, crescendoing as I stumble into the stream bank, then cuts off in sudden silence. In that breathless pause, moonlight spills across the clearing, and a massive wolf steps forward, its fur glimmering bluish-black, eyes burning with golden fire, locked directly on me.

I raise my trembling hands in surrender and stutter my words out, “Pl-please. I’m just trying to get back home.”

The beast holds my gaze. Then, with a pained snarl, it collapses onto its side. I seize the chance to sprint toward the stream.

Before I can plunge my bleeding hand into the water, a woman’s voice pierces the night, “Where are you!”

Panic jolts through me. I spin to run, but a hand seizes my wrist. I nearly scream, but another hand clamps over my mouth.

“Stay quiet, or she’ll catch us,” a man whispers hot against my ear.

He pulls me with him, his grip unrelenting, weaving through the forest as though the darkness is nothing more than a shadowed memory. I stumble, branches clawing at my sleeves, but somehow he guides me around every root and bush, never once faltering. His strides are sure, almost effortless, while mine are a desperate scramble to keep up.

The forest blurs around us, the damp earth, the whisper of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, all swallowed up by the pounding of my heart. My breath burns, ragged in my throat, but I don’t dare ask him to stop. I don’t dare let go.

At last, a shape emerges from the gloom. A cabin, small and rough-hewn, its silhouette crouching between the trees like it has been waiting centuries for us to arrive. My stomach knots. He doesn’t pause to explain. Instead, he shoulders the door open with a creak that echoes in the silence, then drags me inside.